Hopelessly Lost
by Yombatable
Summary: Arthur was, to put it bluntly, absolutely... Completely... Utterly... Totally... Fucking lost. ScotEng AU in which they're idiots and get lost in Paris. One-shot.


**What is this? IDK.**

 **I found it half-finished in my fanfiction folder and decided to finish it... so here ya go I guess.**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

* * *

Arthur was, to put it bluntly, absolutely...

Completely...

Utterly...

Totally...

Fucking lost.

He'd been denying that fact for what felt like hours now, but after squinting at a road sign for a few too many minutes he finally decided that he was, in fact, fucking lost.

He sighed and resigned himself to being stuck in a foreign city, where he didn't speak the language, and didn't know the geography, and more to the point, wasn't sure how to leave. Leaning up against the wall, he let his head fall backwards, his eyes closing resignedly.

"Great job Arthur," he groaned, "Just wander off, you know where you're going! You'll be fine on your own!" He ran a hand through his hair irritably, "Just go and get yourself fucking lost!"

"Excuse me?"

Arthur's head snapped up at the familiar sounds which formed familiar words, in an albeit undesirable accent, but at this point he'd take what he could get. The first thing he noticed was that the man standing above him was tall, probably accentuated by the fact Arthur had slipped a few inches down the wall, but still taller than Arthur. The second thing was that he was ginger... very ginger. It struck him that he looked exactly like his accent. Completely Scottish. That thought made him chuckle.

The man frowned, "Couldn't help but notice your sorry arse was lost. Seems we two sad sods are in a similar situation."

Arthur breathed out a laugh, "As helpful as that is, I'm not sure how helpful we can be to each other."

"I didn't say we could be, I just thought we could empathize with each other."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the man for a moment, before deciding that he was a sad enough sod to actually _want_ the company of another sad sod, even a Scottish sad sod, sadly.

"Alright, if we're going to empathize I'm going to need a name."

The guy laughed a little, holding out his hand for Arthur to shake, "Alistair, I tell you, it's great to hear English again."

Arthur nodded, "I'm not sure I can deal with trying to decipher any more French."

"Want to walk more or are you happy on this shitty street corner?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, let's walk..."

* * *

"So, what got you lost in the middle of this charming city?"

"I'm here with my mum, she loves Paris, god knows why, anyway, I got fed up of listening to her late-night talk shows in the hotel and decided to take a walk. You know what happened from there."

The man named Alistair laughed a little, "Don't blame you, I'd've booked it too."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

Arthur nodded.

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

Alistair sighed, then shrugged, "I suppose you're right. Well, I've been dating this guy..."

* * *

"...and then my dad just fucking launches himself into the pool, suit and everything!"

"You're kidding?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"You're a stranger lost on the streets of Paris, hardly a reliable source."

"You say that as if your sorry arse isn't in the same situation."

"Touché, but even so, I hardly think-"

Alistair laughed, cutting Arthur off mid-sentence, "Don't even try to defend yourself, you're here to escape talk-shows!"

"Well, you know what..."

* * *

"I think Paris would be nice if not for all the French people."

Alistair let out a snort at that comment, "I get the feeling that was half the point."

"The French people?"

"We are in France, the country of love, the city of lights, isn't it romantic?"

Arthur let out a snort of his own, "I dated a French guy, they're not all they're cracked up to be."

Alistair raised an eyebrow at him, "You dated a French guy and you still don't know enough French to find your basic way around Paris?"

"What can I say?" Arthur replied with a nonchalant shrug, "I'm a stubborn prat."

Alistair smirked, glancing sideways at him, "That's okay, I dated a French guy too. To this day, all I remember is ' _Tu n'as pas eu mal quand tu es tombé du ciel?_ ', which I've reliably informed I just absolutely butchered, which roughly translates to 'Did it hurt when you fell out of heaven?'."

Arthur snorted, "The _only_ French thing you remember is a cheesy French pick-up line?"

"Oh no," Alistair assured him, "I remember a lot more than that, but they are _definitely_ not PG-13."

"Ah," Arthur replied with a laugh, "Yet another thing we have in common."

* * *

"If you had to have sex with any member of One Direction, which would it be?"

"Zane."

"He's not in One Direction anymore."

Arthur put a dramatic hand to his forehead, gasping loudly, "Don't mention that, it brings me too much pain!"

Alistair put a hand on his heart, a fake pout on his lips, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were such a dedicated fan, I should have been more sensitive."

"All is forgiven, what about you, since now we're on the topic... somehow."

"Niall."

"You're so predictable!"

"You said Zane!"

"Zane is a fucking Adonis okay, I-!"

* * *

"Okay, I've got one," Arthur said, waiting until Alistair hummed in acknowledgement before continuing, "If you won the lottery what would you do with the money?"

"I'd put it in the bank and live a lazy and stingy life until the day I died."

"Well that's boring."

"What would _you_ do with it then?"

"First things first, I'd secure my Mum's place in a decent home, second I'd buy a house out in the country somewhere, away from everyone, and then I'd save the rest of it, so I could spend my life writing novels in my little countryside home."

"That sounds nice actually."

Arthur nodded slightly sadly, "Never going to happen though..."

Alistair nudged him in the ribs offering him a small smile, "Hey, why not? Never say never boy-o, you don't have a clue what the future holds. None of us do."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "That's reassuring, thank you."

"Ah, but you don't get it," Alistair beamed, "There's so much that can happen, there's no reason that one day you couldn't have a house out in the country with nothing but dust and books to keep you company."

Arthur found himself smiling despite himself, "Oh, I don't know, I think I'd want _some_ company. A cat probably. Maybe a husband... or wife, I'm not picky."

Alistair clapped him on the back, laughing happily, "A nice piece of arse like you? It's a miracle you haven't been snapped up already!"

Arthur swatted at him, laughing in return, "Fuck off, you wanker."

* * *

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

"Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious!"

"If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious _,_ "

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

It was when Alistair started bobbing up and down singing, "Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye," that Arthur absolutely broke down laughing.

* * *

"I bet you can't climb that lamp post."

Alistair raised an eyebrow at Arthur, who stared back in challenge.

"You bet your left bollock I can."

* * *

"Well, look on the bright side, at least now we know where we are."

Alistair narrowed his eyes at the man sitting at his bedside, before turning to his ankle which was raised up in one of those stupid-looking elevation contraptions.

"Would have been better to find out in a more conventional way though, y'know, like a map or a local."

"We found out through a local," Arthur protested, "In a sense."

"I'm not sure the paramedics count."

Arthur scoffed lightly, "Of course they do."

Alistair shook his head, hesitating a moment before saying, "You don't have to stay, y'know."

"I know," Arthur said, gazing lazily out into the hall, "but I don't have to leave either."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Arthur shrugged a little, "I'm not sure, I think it means I've somehow gotten fond of you over the last couple of hours, but it could just be that I'm absolutely shattered."

Alistair raised an eyebrow, "Is that your way of saying you fancy me?"

Arthur was quiet for a moment before he turned his head around to look at Alistair. He frowned for a moment, his eyes darting over him, and Alistair had the most awful feeling of being appraised. After a short while, Arthur spoke, "A little, but it's hard to tell after only a few hours."

Alistair smirked a little at that, "Well in that case, I'll be giving you my number so when we both get back to Britain we can get to know each other for more than a few hours."

Arthur returned the smirk, "Yeah, okay." His smile turned soft. "That sounds nice."


End file.
